


The Space Between

by fictionallemons



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Benji mostly tops, Blow Jobs, Bottom Ethan, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Hotel Sex, Idiots in Love, Julia Meade - Freeform, Kissing, Lack of Communication, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015) Spoilers, Misunderstandings, Movie: Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation, Mutual Pining, Not super important who tops and who bottoms I just usually think of Ethan as more of a bottom, Pining, Post-Mission, Post-Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011), Rimming, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16084553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: After the events of Ghost Protocol, and continuing through events of Rogue Nation, Benji and Ethan start having sex after missions. Benji assumes he's a convenient coping mechanism for Ethan's stress, and he's fine with that. No one has to know he's in love with Agent Hunt--least of all Ethan.





	1. The first time

It started after the mess with Hendricks and the nuclear bomb. Benji had picked up a phone off a table in Seattle, expecting to hear from the IMF in a few days, maybe a few weeks. He’d been heading for the bus station, not exactly intent on a destination, but feeling edgy, like he needed to escape. From what, he wasn’t sure.

The phone buzzed.

_Busy, Agent Dunn?_

Fuck, Benji thought. Already? He was still having nightmares from last time. But maybe a new adventure would chase the nightmares away. 

Or replace them with new ones.

He typed his answer quickly.

_Ready and waiting._

_Meet me at Outlier. 30 minutes._

Benji had been afraid he’d be meeting a suit or getting some sort of coded message, but it was Ethan who was leaning against the bar when Benji arrived, looking exactly as he had when Benji had last seen him less than an hour before. Too-long hair, black jacket, boyish smile that did things to Benji’s insides. The bar was crowded, and Benji slotted himself next to Ethan so he could hear him over the din.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

“’course,” Benji replied. He could smell beer on Ethan’s breath, but it wasn’t beer in the glass in front of him on the polished wooden bartop. It looked more like whisky.

“Drink?” Ethan asked.

Benji raised his eyebrows. Missions didn’t usually start with cocktails. This wasn’t MI-6 and he wasn’t James Bond. Even Ethan wasn’t James Bond.

“What’s all this about?” Benji asked. He felt as if he was missing something, but that was possibly because Ethan’s hip was pressed against his, and his elbow had grazed Benji’s jacket-clad arm a couple of times and the bar was loud and he hadn’t had a decent night of sleep in weeks and it was all making it very difficult to think properly.

“I have a few hours to kill until my flight to Kandahar. I thought maybe some company would be nice.” Ethan was smiling but not really looking at Benji, as if he was embarrassed to admit he didn’t want to be alone.

“Oh! I thought—“ Benji paused. Ethan didn’t need to know that Benji thought the only reason he’d summon him was for a mission. “—never mind. Yeah, I’ll have a pint, I guess.”

Ethan signaled to the bartender, who presented Benji with a pint of lager less than thirty seconds later. Maybe Ethan was telepathic, too, in addition to being fearless, brilliant, hyper-focused, and practically indestructible. Benji rather hoped he wasn’t, or the daydreams he sometimes had about Agent Hunt would get him into trouble.

They drank in silence for a minute. Then Ethan said, rather abruptly. “You want to get out of here?”

Benji sputtered into the foamy head of the beer he’d just started enjoying. “Uh…where do you want to go?” Then he wanted to take it back. _If Ethan asks if you want to get out of here, you say yes, Dunn._

“This is going to sound crazy, but I actually got a room in the hotel, so I could catch some zs before my flight. It’ll be quieter up there. We could talk.” Ethan still wasn’t looking right at Benji, as if he was afraid Benji was say no.

“Talk. Right. Sure.” Benji wasn’t convinced that he and Ethan had anything to talk about, unless he wanted to rehash India or maybe Dubai. “You don’t want to sleep? I mean,” Benji said, “you don’t want to get some sleep? On your own. Up there.”

Ethan finally turned to look Benji in the eye. “You’re not the only one who’s been having nightmares, Benji.”

Benji just nodded. Of course. Ethan was as human as the next guy. Well, nearly. 

They picked up their drinks and simply carried them to the elevator that connected the bar with the rest of the upscale hotel. Benji figured this was a perk of being Ethan Hunt. He got put up at the Kimpton Monaco while Benji had been going to sit up all night on the Greyhound to Portland.

Benji whistled when Ethan let him into the room. It wasn’t huge, but it had a big picture window with a view of Seattle’s cityscape, a comfy-looking king bed, and wallpapered walls in modern designs. There was a black duffle bag on a chair. Ethan’s life: a hotel room, a single bag, and a coworker he’d practically had to trick into spending time with him. 

Suddenly, Benji felt something like sadness. Ethan had saved the world, but he’d done so silently. He’d never be given the kind of accolades he should. He knew Ethan didn’t care about that. But for a moment, he wanted to make sure Ethan knew someone cared about all the impossible feats he managed to pull off in the name of protecting the world.

“Hey, Ethan?”

Ethan had crossed to look out the window. He turned around halfway.

“Yeah, Benji?”

“You’re a really good person, you know that?”

Ethan swallowed, his casual grin gone. “Not really.”

“You are. I just want you to know that I know it. And Brandt and Carter know it, too.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said softly. He glanced down at his left hand, flexed it a few times. He seemed to have forgotten about the finger of whisky left in the glass in his right hand. Benji took a belated sip of his pint. It was getting warm. He didn’t really want it, but it gave him something to do besides embarrass himself, and Ethan, with random emotional observations.

“You’re a good person, too, Benji. I’m glad you were there.” Ethan set his glass down on a coffee table, walked a few feet so he was standing directly in front of Benji. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Benji was about to say something glib to relieve the tension of the odd mood that had settled between them, until he caught sight of Ethan’s eyes. There was sadness there, so much sadness, and regret. Benji thought of the wife Ethan had lost. He thought of Jane and Hanaway and how each mission brought them close to death half a dozen times a day. He thought about how long Ethan had been in that Russian prison, how alive being next to Ethan made him feel.

“I’m glad I’m here, too,” he said, his voice low. He carefully set his glass down on the nearest surface, took a step toward Ethan, his heart thundering in his chest.

Then they were kissing, hard and messy. Ethan’s hands were firm on Benji’s waist, pulling him closer. Benji ran his hands up Ethan’s front, the softness of his clothes a contrast to the hard plane of his chest. Ethan tasted like whisky, his tongue invading Benji’s mouth, licking into him until he was open and panting. 

Benji had no idea what was happening, but his cock was rapidly becoming as hard as it had ever been, and the corresponding bulge in Ethan’s jeans left no doubt as to his enthusiasm for whatever they were about to do.

He took the opportunity, while Ethan was simultaneously wrenching Benji’s jacket off his shoulders and laving wet open mouthed kisses over Benji’s throat, to let his hands wander into Ethan’s hair. He’d always wondered if it was as soft as it looked. He carded his hands through once, twice, and Ethan groaned, nuzzling against Benji’s collarbone. It was softer than it looked. Of course. And Ethan liked it. Ethan liking anything that Benji did to him made him lightheaded with joy. So when Ethan murmured into his ear, “I want to suck your cock. Can I?” Benji’s knees nearly buckled. _If Ethan asks if he can suck your cock, you say yes, Dunn._

“Yes,” he blurted out, and Ethan chuckled. Ethan kissed him again, and shrugged out of his jacket. He unbuckled Benji’s trousers, and then slowly sank to his knees onto the plush carpet below.

“Jesus H. Christ.” Benji didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he clenched them into fists at his sides. Ethan’s magnificently capable ones extricated Benji’s cock from his boxers, and that slight touch sent a pulse though Benji’s entire body. He was not going to last long once Ethan put his actual fucking mouth around him. 

The sensation of wet heat engulfing him had him looking down, but it was too much to watch Ethan’s mouth stretched around his cock, his hair falling elegantly around his gorgeous head, and Benji squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to buck wildly into the mouth of his…friend? Whatever, they could talk about what this meant later. Right now, Ethan Hunt was giving him fantastic head and Benji shoved two knuckles into his mouth and bit down to keep from coming just yet. But the orgasm was building and once he realized that Ethan had somehow gotten his own cock out and was jerking himself off as he sucked Benji down sent him over the edge.

“Ethan, Jesus, I’m about to—“ Ethan didn’t budge, so Benji tried warning him with a tug to his beautiful hair, but that just made Ethan groan around the cock in his mouth, sending vibrations up Benji’s body. The orgasm tore through him, and he pumped everything he had deep into Ethan’s throat. Ethan was coming too, judging by the sounds he was making, muffled as they were. 

Ethan pulled off, the wet sound lushly obscene. It took all of Benji’s willpower not to collapse into a heap on the carpet next to Ethan. Instead, he tucked himself away and fastened his trousers, averting his eyes as Ethan did the same. There were dark spots of come on the floor. Ethan’s come. He’d orgasmed with Benji’s cock in his mouth. 

Maybe Ethan hadn’t saved the world at all. Maybe Benji was dead and this was some form of heaven.

Ethan got up and threw himself onto the bed. He was still wearing his shoes. For some reason, this struck Benji has hilarious, and he started laughing.

“What?” Ethan smiled. “That bad, huh?”

Benji lay down next to Ethan, letting his own shoe-clad feet hang off the end of the bed. “Yeah, that was terrible. You really need to work on your technique.” 

“I’m a little rusty.” Ethan said wryly. They’d just done something wildly unprecedented, but somehow things felt easier between them than before. 

“Couldn’t tell,” Benji said. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t return the favor.” He froze, not sure if offering to suck Ethan’s cock would be welcome or not.

“Well, I do have three more hours until my flight,” Ethan said.

“In that case, I owe you at least one,” Benji said. “It’s only right.”

Ethan turned on his side to face Benji. “Hey,” he said, his voice serious again. “You don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to, you know that, right?”

Benji gave himself a second to feel the wave of affection that swelled up for the man lying next to him, because he knew that was all the time he could afford to waste on inconvenient emotions. Ethan was a good man. He was a lonely one, too. Benji may not have had the same amount of field experience as Ethan; he may have been more comfortable around computers than people. But he could tell that Ethan was one of the loneliest people he knew, and he didn’t deserve to be. 

If Benji could make Ethan’s life a little less lonely, than he’d take that job as seriously as he did pitching in to stop a madman with nuclear ambitions. Maybe Benji was simply convenient. Or maybe Ethan felt safe around him, safe enough to let down his guard. It didn’t matter why. It mattered that Ethan had chosen him, had seen something in him, and Benji was certain he didn’t go around giving head to every one of the agents on his team. If what Benji felt for Ethan veered toward the l-word, well, that could stay between Benji and his idiotic heart. Because Ethan wasn’t actually telepathic. He’d never have to know that Benji’s feelings ran deeper than a quick shag to blow off steam after a harrowing mission. And Benji could still be there for Ethan, in any way he needed him to be.

“I know, Ethan. You either, okay?”

“Okay.” Ethan smiled. “You wanna check out the shower?”

“Definitely.”

***

Three hours and two more orgasms later, Benji was wrapped in a hotel bathrobe, sound asleep in the king bed. Ethan didn’t know if Benji was dreaming or not, but he had a cute little smile on his lips. At least he wasn’t having nightmares. 

Ethan shouldered his bag and, even though Benji couldn’t see him, blew him a kiss from across the hotel room. They hadn’t had much time to talk, but Ethan figured that could wait. He’d needed Benji’s warmth, his uncomplicated goodness, his adorable smile and his talented hands. He wouldn’t think about why he needed them, or what it all meant. Not today. 

Next time, he promised himself silently. Next time, they’d talk. They’d assess. They’d be grownups about this, instead of giggling like teenagers as they gave each other hand jobs in the shower. That had been followed by Benji’s expert blowjob in the bathroom post-shower. 

Ethan felt himself getting warm reliving the sensation of spilling himself down Benji’s throat. He forced himself to back out of the hotel room, making sure the door locked behind him. It wasn’t a big deal. Nothing had to change. And if he could make himself believe that, maybe he wouldn’t lose Benji the way he’d lost Julia. The way he’d lost so many other people he cared about. He couldn’t go through that again.

He’d die before he lost Benji. He set his mouth into a firm line and went to meet his plane.


	2. The second time

Benji didn’t see Ethan for two months. Then they were thrown together on a mission involving African blood diamonds and a conspiracy that had the power to topple three country’s governments. They washed up, sore, tired, but victorious in a Moroccan resort town with twenty hours to kill before a boat was to pick up Benji to take him to London for debriefing and Ethan was off to who-knows-where.

Brandt and Carter had been in Tunisia for the final part of the plan, so Ethan and Benji were alone. They attacked each other the second the door to the suite Ethan got for them locked behind them. 

Ethan’s kiss was familiar, but different. He hadn’t been drinking, for one thing. Benji had sort of chalked up Seattle to Ethan’s possibly impaired judgment. The night had taken on a dream-like quality in his recollection in the two months since it had happened. But even though they were both coming down from an adrenaline high, they weren’t under the influence of anything except some invisible connection that had them tearing each other’s clothes off as soon as the mission was completed, the danger past, and privacy could be assured.

Ethan’s kisses, the way he touched Benji everywhere, always careful to ask before going to the next step, then always groaning with relief when he got what he’d asked for, could only be described as ravenous. It was like he was hungry for Benji, starving for him. He greedily sucked red marks on Benji’s collarbone, on his shoulder, where a shirt would easily cover them up. He licked at Benji’s nipples like a starving man; he sucked his cock like it would cure the world’s ills. 

Benji was overwhelmed, and then he couldn’t be overwhelmed anymore, he could only ride the waves of pleasure that Ethan incited in him, over and over. Benji loved giving Ethan access to him, loved giving him whatever he wanted. He wanted to tell Ethan he didn’t even need to ask, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. Ethan would never take without permission. At least he wasn’t shy about asking. “Can I lick your balls?” “Can I finger you?” “Can I jerk you off?” It wasn’t dirty talk, exactly, but it served the same purpose, to drive Benji crazy with desire for the beautiful, strong, man who for some reason decided that Benji was something desirable, too.

They made excellent use of those twenty hours. They spent eight of them tangled together in the center of the room’s big bed, sleeping the sleep of the dead. Benji woke with Ethan’s morning erection pressing into his thigh, as Ethan slept on. Benji watched his face, soft and unlined, his mouth set in a soft smile, as if in sleep he could be free of the weight of the world for a while. Benji wondered how Ethan’s nightmares were. His hadn’t been so bad since Seattle. Something about knowing that he wasn’t alone in having the stresses of the job seep into his subconscious calmed him.

When Ethan roused a few minutes later, they ordered room service, and took a shower together. That was quickly becoming one of Benji’s favorite things--to get to run his hands up and down Ethan’s compact, muscular body, soaping him up, getting him wet and slippery. They took turns thrusting their tongues into each other’s mouths as they jerked each other off under the spray. It felt like the dirtiest way to get clean and Benji was 100% on board.

Over breakfast they talked a little, about a few loose ends from the mission, about what headaches the suits had in store for them during the debrief. Benji was careful not to ask Ethan anything personal. That wasn’t what this was about, and he wasn’t going to embarrass himself by pretending it was anything more than what it was.

Because Benji could tell that this was, for Ethan, a sort of coping mechanism. They faced danger, they faced death, they faced the impossible every day. And sometimes they had a moment, just a moment, to breathe, to be normal. But normality was impossible. Much better to forget trying to be normal and spend those moments chasing another kind of high, another kind of connection. Better to have some hot, satisfying sex with someone you trusted instead of some anonymous one-night-stand. 

Benji was available. Ethan was lonely and needed a release. Benji got it. And he loved being useful to Ethan. Which is not to say he didn’t love the sex, too. It was intense and easily the best sex he’d ever had. Every time he got to see Ethan come he felt like he had knowledge of one of the most precious secrets in the universe. Because Ethan when he came was truly beautiful.

So what if he happened to love Ethan, too? It didn’t matter. It didn’t hurt anyone. Benji knew that was outside the equation. Giving Ethan what he needed, that was the equation, and if post-mission sex was the solution, Benji had all the answers.

***

That time it was Ethan who woke up alone in the hotel bed. He’d drifted off again after their post-breakfast sex. It had turned from making out to Benji’s going down on Ethan and then Ethan maneuvering until they were sixty-nining. He’d never done it before, but after a few moments trying to get the angles right, he had to say he was a fan. 

Everything he did with Benji was like it was the first time. Benji was so—Benji. Funny and giving and precious. He’d thought there would be a chance to tell Benji some of this stuff, but every time he’d tried to bring up anything besides work or sex positions, Benji got squirrely. 

Ethan had to shrug. Maybe Benji was right. They were so combustible when they were alone together that there really wasn’t any oxygen left over for conversation once they’d used it all up on the scorching hot sex. Even so, sometime they’d have to talk about where this was going. In the meantime, Ethan had some very nice memories indeed to keep him company on all the cold, lonely nights that inevitably accompanied the life of a world-traveling, world-saving secret agent.


	3. The third time

A few months later came the nerve gas interception with Ethan literally hanging by his fingernails off the side off of an airplane. Benji had practically had a heart attack before confirming that Ethan, and the package, had both landed safely. Ethan had to go to London afterward, while Benji was due to head back to IMF headquarters. 

They had an hour and a half in a dingy airport hotel room. The first time was frantic kissing with their hands down each other’s pants. The second was slower, with Ethan two fingers deep inside Benji while he sucked him off, and then Benji told Ethan to come on him. Ethan painted white stripes over Benji’s abs and chest. They barely had time to clean up before their respective planes, let alone talk.

But before they left the room, Ethan kissed Benji one more time. It wasn’t the fast, hard, deep kisses they enjoyed when they were fucking. This kiss was tender. It lingered. It left room for Benji to imagine that they were parting as lovers, rather than fuck buddies. He let his eyes close as the kiss went on, letting the softness wash over him, feeling more than hearing Ethan whisper against his mouth, “See you soon, Benji.” He didn’t open his eyes again until he heard the door open and shut, and he was alone.

On the flight home, Benji couldn’t stop analyzing the kiss. It had left him feeling confused and aching for something that he knew to be impossible. But what if it wasn’t? Benji decided he’d test the waters the next time he saw Ethan. Of course, Benji hadn’t known, couldn’t know, that it would be the last time he’d see Ethan for more than six months.

***

At first, no one would tell him anything. The IMF was suddenly part of the CIA. Days passed and Brandt looked grimmer and grimmer every time he saw him walking the halls. Benji was placed on permanent desk duty. And Ethan was in the wind. 

Benji tried telling himself that Ethan had his reasons, that he was chasing down leads, doing what he had to do, the way he always did. But the radio silence hurt. It made it easier to lie every time Hunley hauled him into his office to do what passed for interrogation in the CIA. And when he felt his control slipping, he only had to remind himself that he wasn’t Ethan’s friend. He was more. He was his friend-with-benefits at the very least. Though as the weeks turned into months, it became harder and harder to believe any of that had really happened. He’d go an entire day without thinking about him, and then he’d sink into an uneasy sleep, dreaming about straight white teeth and soft, slow kisses, and the undiluted joy of hearing his name on Ethan’s lips.

Then they had a credible lead. Ethan was in Cuba. Or so Hunley thought. Benji wasn’t worried about Ethan staying out of Hunley’s grasp. But he did worry about him on his own, fighting a fight that no one else thought was real. When it turned out he’d won opera tickets the same week as Ethan escaped Hunley’s minions again, he’d trusted his gut and made the trip. He’d hadn’t been surprised, exactly, that the trip had been a ruse. But hearing Ethan’s voice in his ear as if no time had passed was disorienting. He’d spent six long, lonely months wondering and worrying and angry at himself for falling in love with a man who pulled shit like this as a matter of course. It was more difficult that he wanted to admit to get back to business as usual, playing back-up to Ethan’s lead.

But he did his job, because Ethan had asked him to. Seeing him for the first time in all those months was bittersweet. Ethan looked good—as if the long months in isolation hadn’t bothered him at all, while Benji felt pale after day upon day of enforced computer duty, though he’d been to the gym daily, taking his frustration out on the elliptical machine. And there was a complication—a mysterious woman he had no intention of trusting with his life, let alone Ethan’s.

She held the clues to taking down the man who had threatened Ethan in London. Benji knew he was beaten when he saw the fervency on Ethan’s face. This nameless terrorist was becoming an obsession with Ethan. But that didn’t mean he was wrong. 

Ethan took Benji to his floating bunker of a safe house. He and Ethan were alone—their location unknown to anyone else on earth—and it felt like the first time he could breathe in months. It was also incredibly awkward. Ethan seemed to be all business, and Benji played along—until Ethan tried to send him home.

“I’m staying. And that is all we’re going to say about that.”

“Okay.”

Maybe Ethan was surprised that Benji would stand up to him, but Benji was too annoyed to hold back. After that was settled, they made their plan, figured out their route from Vienna to Casablanca. By then it was nearly dawn. They would catch some sleep and start again the next day. Ethan gestured to the duffle bag he’d tried to foist on Benji when he’d ordered him to return to headquarters.

“Clothes—we should get some sleep.” Ethan had already lost his jacket and rolled his crisp white dress shirt over his forearms as they worked. Benji had removed his tie, undone the top few buttons of his own shirt.

“Yeah, right,” Benji nodded. He didn’t expect anything to happen besides a few restless hours of sleep in uncomfortable bunk beds before they set off for the next part of their self-directed mission. So far, they’d only come together after missions were finished. There was no reason to expect the pattern to be different now. Ethan was focused on the mission at hand. Benji was focused on Ethan, on being what he needed.

Benji grabbed the bag and crossed the small, almost submarine-like space to the head. He had to pass Ethan on the way, smelling his familiar spicy scent, swallowing as he averted his eyes from the opening of his collar and the triangle of skin there. Benji knew what that skin tasted like. But that was neither here nor there. Until Ethan grabbed his elbow gently as he went by.

“Hey,” Ethan said softly, hesitantly.

Benji stopped and raised his eyes to Ethan’s. “Hey.” He let himself smile then, a real smile, tentative thought it was. He saw his expression mirrored on Ethan’s face.

“Before you—I just want to say—thanks. For believing in me.” Ethan’s smile grew lopsided. “I’m sorry about all this. And I—missed you.”

Benji felt his eyes grow wide at the statement. “You—” 

Ethan cut him off before he could express his astonishment. “I wish I could have gotten in contact, but it was too dangerous for you to know anything about where I was or what I was doing.”

“I would never have told—”

“Not because of that. It was too dangerous for _you_. The only way I could focus on what I had to do what because I knew they’d stuck you behind a desk.” He smiled again. “I figured you couldn’t get into too much trouble there. Even if it was mind-numbingly boring.”

“Mind-meltingly boring,” Benji said. His heart was racing. Ethan had missed him. Ethan had thought about him while he was gone—protected him in his own way.

Ethan’s gaze dropped from Benji’s eyes to his mouth, then back up again. “Did you, uh, maybe…miss me, too?”

Benji sucked in a breath. “I might have done. A little.” Was he flirting with Ethan all of a sudden? 

“Just a little?” A blush appeared on Ethan’s tanned cheeks after he said it. 

All right, they were flirting. And Ethan liked it.

“I might have thought about you once or twice,” Benji said. He realized his voice had dropped a register and they were standing inches apart in a very small, enclosed space with a bed directly behind them.

“And what did you think about?” Ethan’s voice was low, too, and his gaze was definitely fixed in the area of Benji’s mouth.

Benji ran through his mental roster of Ethan-centric fantasies. He had no idea where to start. He let out an embarrassed laugh. This wasn’t the time. Was it? “Uh--”

Perhaps Ethan sensed his hesitation because he answered his own question. “I thought about you, Benji. Every night. I was alone. I had time on my hands. And I thought about one very specific thing, over and over. Do you want me to tell you what it was?”

Benji dropped the bag he’d been holding to the floor. His cock was swelling at the insinuation in Ethan’s voice. “Are you sure this a good idea?” he said, even though in his mind he was screaming at himself to just say “Yes!”

“Probably not.” Ethan chuckled. “But sometimes you just have to go with it.”

Benji nodded. He got it. They had a window. So what if it was just about sex to Ethan? Was he really going to turn him down after wishing to see him every day for six months?

“Tell me, then,” he said, his mind made up. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? But they had this moment. He could spend the rest of the night in the arms of the man he loved, and that was enough.

Ethan licked his lips and started to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the *slight* cliffhanger -- more soon! Thanks for reading along!!


	4. I'd think about you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, this chapter starts in Ethan's POV.

“I’d think about you finding me, tracking me down, even though no one else could. I’d imagine you coming to me, waking me up with a kiss. You’d crowd all around me, kissing me, touching me. You’d undress me.” Ethan paused, glanced at Benji. They were mere inches apart, not touching. Ethan felt the heat coming off of Benji, heard his breath hitching as Ethan told him his fantasy. 

He’d thought about Benji so many times while they were apart, and even though now they had pressing matters to attend to, he thought he’d explode if he didn’t at least tell Benji how much he wanted him. 

During all those long months he’d tried to tell himself that Benji was just a friend, a friend who Ethan found incredibly attractive. There was nothing wrong with two people who liked each other, respected each other, finding pleasure with each other. It wasn’t hurting anyone. 

Only, it did hurt. It hurt because he was in love with Benji Dunn and he’d been too focused on other things to realize it. Because he’d made love to Benji while pretending it was something meaningless to blow of steam or pass the time. Maybe that’s all it was to Benji. If so, Ethan would have to live with it. But life was too short to pretend his feelings were merely casual.

He didn’t quite know how to tell Benji, or how Benji might react. But he thought maybe he could show him.

“I’d think about that and touch myself, imagining I was naked, and you were still fully dressed. You kissed all the way down my body until you got to my cock.” Ethan paused again, as Benji shuddered out a breath. “You sucked it a little, and then you started…preparing me. You had lube and you’d touch me, enter me, with your fingers. And then, when I was begging you to fuck me, you’d finally take out your cock and slide into me.”

Ethan shifted. He was rock hard in his pants. He didn’t know how Benji would react to the graphic picture he’d just painted, but Ethan was desperate to touch Benji. He did have fairly decent self-control, however, so he just waited, breathed, and when Benji remained silent he said, his voice more wrecked than he’d like to admit, “Would you do that, Benji? Would you fuck me?”

Benji took a noisy breath. “You want me to fuck you, Ethan?” His voice was gravelly.

“Yes,” Ethan said simply.

“Right now?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Get on the bed.” Benji’s voice was still rough, but it was as if he’d made up his mind about something and there was no turning back. Ethan stumbled backward, his legs hitting the metal rail of the narrow bunk. He dropped down, sitting on the edge.

“Lay back,” Benji said.

Ethan complied, loving the way Benji was telling him what to do. In their previous encounters, Benji had let Ethan take the lead, though Ethan had always been assiduous in asking before they took things to a new level. Now Ethan had asked, had begged, really, and Benji was giving him what he wanted. And more.

Benji stood over Ethan. He stared, looking Ethan up and down. His face was unreadable, but Ethan saw the bulge in his fancy dress trousers and knew this was turning him on. Suddenly, Benji climbed on top of Ethan, placing his knees on either side of Ethan’s body. Neither of them were huge people, which was a plus given the tight quarters. Benji leaned forward and kissed Ethan on the mouth. He felt Benji’s beard scrape over his chin and couldn’t help moaning into the kiss. He needed this so much, wanted it so much. Loved it, in fact.

Benji’s hands started traveling around Ethan’s body. He kissed Ethan hard on his mouth, his jaw, his neck. He was surrounding Ethan, all around him, just like in his fantasy. 

Ethan arched up into Benji, trying to feel the press of his body against his erection, but Benji hovered just out of reach. Ethan groaned in frustration as Benji pulled away, until Benji started unbuttoning Ethan’s shirt. He was doing it, playing out Ethan’s fantasy, and Ethan’s heart felt full to bursting. He struggled to maintain control and not just grab Benji’s ass and grind him down on top of him. He had to let Benji do this. 

Being undressed by him was glorious torture. He slowly slid the dress shirt over Ethan’s shoulders, down his arms, kissing newly revealed skin as he went. He followed the shirt by removing Ethan’s shoes, reaching behind him to push them off, then his socks. Next came the belt. All the while Benji’s face was solemn, but focused on Ethan. 

Ethan’s belt clinked as it dropped to floor beside the bunk. Benji’s hand ghosted over the bulge in Ethan’s pants and Ethan panted, “Please.” At that, Benji smiled minutely, carefully unfastening Ethan’s trousers and sliding them over his hips to reveal skin-molding black boxer-briefs and Ethan’s straining erection trapped underneath.

He avoided touching Ethan’s cock as he slid the boxer-briefs down and discarded them. Finally, Ethan was completely naked. Benji still wore most of his tux, and the sensation of him, still kneeling over him, wearing all his clothes, while Ethan was bare underneath him was unbelievably erotic. Ethan felt like he would come the minute Benji touched him.

But Benji didn’t touch him. He did what Ethan had described, kissing slowly, passionately, down Ethan’s chest, across his nipples, down the middle of his belly, through the hair from which sprang his painfully hard cock. Benji kissed him like he was precious, something to be honored and savored. 

Ethan was disconcerted to feel a tear leaking from the corner of one eye. He’d never been treated like this during sex before. Usually his partners, aware of his alpha-male traits, wanted the sex to be acrobatic and exciting. He’d fallen into that routine with Benji, too, given the briefness of their encounters and the desperation with which they’d fallen upon one another. 

But this felt different. It was slower, gentler. Ethan felt both incredibly vulnerable and incredibly safe. Benji could do that for him, do that to him. Make him feel like the most capable, powerful person in the world at the same time his heart seized up with the enormity of his responsibility to keep this precious man safe, along with the rest of the planet.

Ethan knew what came next in the fantasy: Benji taking his cock in his mouth. But instead, Benji glanced around before asking, “Lube?” in a quiet, measured tone.

Ethan struggled to focus on the simple question. “Zippered pocket on my bag. Under the bed.”

Benji pulled a duplicate of the bag he’d been given from underneath the bed, and found what he was looking for without much trouble. The bottle had been an afterthought, wishful thinking, perhaps, on Ethan’s part, once he’d made the decision to bring Benji to Vienna. It never hurt to be prepared.

Benji didn’t comment on the existence of said lube, simply went back to work, making Ethan’s dream come true. He kissed the soft flesh of his inner thighs, nosing up the skin there until he was breathing in the crease between thigh and pelvis. Ethan squirmed. He’d thoroughly cleaned himself before the opera, but there had been a lot of running and fighting and, um, sweating, since then. Benji didn’t seem to care. His tongue came out, licking first over Ethan’s balls, then up his cock, until he had just the tip in his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Holy, fuck.” Ethan couldn’t help the oath coming out of him at the sensation. Benji kept the suction light, teasing him, but also not letting him get too close to the edge, for which Ethan was grateful. Then his mouth was no longer on his cock, but licking behind his balls, across his perineum, edging closer and closer to his hole. Ethan spread his legs wider instinctively as he took in the sight of Benji between his legs, fully clothed, his face hidden as he licked his way toward Ethan’s entrance.

The first touch of Benji’s mouth against his hole was just a simple, tender kiss, but Ethan felt like he’d been electrocuted. He bucked up, so turned on he felt he might pass out. 

“Okay?” Benji grunted.

“Uh, fuck, yes,” Ethan was able to get out. Then his mind became a blank as Benji went back to work, breaching him with his tongue, making him quiver as he held back his desperate urge to yell out endearments. Crying out “I love you” for the first time while your partner is rimming you—not the most romantic moment.

Finally, Benji took mercy and removed his mouth, replacing it almost immediately with lubed fingers. He stretched Ethan methodically, until Ethan couldn’t help it: “Please, Benji, please. I need your cock. Please. Fuck me.”

“That’s what I was waiting for,” Benji whispered. Ethan vaguely remembered saying it wasn’t until he was begging for Benji to fuck him that he actually did it. Benji had paid attention. Damn it.

Suddenly, after so much delicious preparation, Benji started moving faster. In a blur, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers. Ethan watched through heavily lidded eyes as he stroked himself a few times with lube-covered fingers, getting himself nice and wet.

Benji met Ethan’s gaze. His cheeks were red and his cock was standing stiffly out in front of him. “Ready?”

“Please,” Ethan said again. Benji pushed inside of him, slow but steady, until he was seated all the way.

Ethan swore again, and grabbed the sheets underneath him. Benji pulled back and snapped forward again, making a sexy little moan. His hands were on Ethan’s hips, his mouth open. Ethan thought he was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, still wearing his tuxedo shirt, fucking his brains out in a cramped floating safe house.

They found a rhythm that elicited the most gasps of pleasure from each of them. Ethan didn’t dare touch himself for fear of exploding in a second. Benji breathed raggedly, his gaze narrowed in concentration. Ethan loved being able to see him like this, in control, taking his pleasure, giving Ethan exactly what he’d asked for. It felt better than he’d imagined on all those long, lonely nights.

Benji shut his eyes and threw his head back. “Yes, Benji, fuck. Come for me, baby.” Ethan gasped as he felt Benji start to unload himself inside Ethan. It was hot and wet and he felt so deliciously full. 

Ethan let his eyes fall closed so he could remember this feeling in every detail. He was surprised when a moment later Benji’s hand, slick with lube, wrapped around his cock, pulling and tugging while Benji was still inside him. He was filled to the brim with Benji’s cock and come, while his neglected erection was finally getting the friction it had been desperate for. Ethan wrenched his eyes open, met Benji’s eyes, and the orgasm tore through him, thick spurts of come splashing everywhere, squelching as Benji milked him through it. Ethan was vaguely aware of Benji murmuring something and of someone shouting…actually that was probably him doing the shouting, wasn’t it?

In the aftermath, Benji withdrew, found something to mop up most of the mess, then he climbed off the bed. Ethan couldn’t seem to drop the stupid grin that had affixed itself to his face, until he realized that Benji wasn’t coming back to bed.

“Benji?”

The other agent scooped up his duffle, keeping his face turned away so Ethan couldn’t read his expression. “I’m going to change.”

“All right.” Ethan frowned as Benji disappeared. In the absence of Benji’s warm touch, he suddenly felt sore, both from the sex and his fight on the scaffolding. He was dirty, and they had a train to catch in less than six hours. Still, he’d thought that something as monumental as that sex had been could have called for a few minutes of….of what? Cuddling? He rolled his eyes at himself. They were hard core secret agents. He supposed cuddling wasn’t really in the job description.

After having his fantasy come to life, Ethan hadn’t expected to feel so…hollow. Not because it hadn’t satisfied him. The opposite. Because he and Benji were so good together, and he still hadn’t been able to tell Benji how he felt about him. And Benji didn’t seem to want to give him a chance.

He stared at the doorway that Benji had disappeared through. Oh, fuck. Was that it? Did Benji know how Ethan felt and was trying to let him down easily? Ethan vaguely remembered calling him “baby” during sex. Shit. Had that scared Benji off? Too much? Too intimate? Ethan hadn’t meant to say it, it just came out.

He felt vaguely nauseous. All signs pointed to Benji wanting to keep things casual. And there Ethan went, begging him to get closer, to fucking literally get inside him. How had he gotten this so terribly wrong? And what was he going to do now?

*** 

Benji stared at himself in the letter-paper-sized mirror in the minuscule bathroom. He was shaking. The adrenaline from the last twelve hours was wearing off. The most intense orgasm of his life had probably been the proverbial last straw. He ran cold water in the sink, splashed some on his face.

What the fuck had just happened? Ethan had spoken to him, painted him a vivid picture of the two of them, and Benji had proceeded to do everything as described, and more. Ethan had been so into it. He’d called him _baby_. Benji had been so in love with him in that moment that it had physically hurt to hold back from saying it.

But Benji couldn’t pretend the casual intimacy didn’t hurt. If Ethan wanted to keep escalating things, Benji wasn’t sure if he could keep this up. Sooner or later, he was going to have to end it, if only to preserve his sanity. He’d been trained to fight, he’d been trained to lie. But he couldn’t lie to Ethan. Not about this. Better to just end it without dragging all of Benji’s unrequited emotions into it. Yeah. They had a job to do. They had to get to Casablanca and stop the terrorist in his tracks. Afterward, Benji would explain to Ethan that this…arrangement wasn’t working for him anymore. And hopefully Ethan wouldn’t ask too many questions about why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the chapter count went up by one. I think I can have this wrapped up with one more...they just keep having sex without communicating!


	5. In the end

The trip to Casablanca was oddly strained. Usually when they were on a mission together, Benji would complain about the crazy stuff Ethan asked him to do, but without really minding. Ethan would have fun cajoling him into doing whatever they had to do, and after a few unexpected twists and turns, everything would turn out okay in the end. But in the time it took to get to Ilsa’s Moroccan hideout, they kept the banter to a minimum. 

Benji barely noticed, to be honest. He wanted to pretend like nothing had changed, but he’d done the stupidest thing imaginable. He was head over heels for Ethan, and while before he’d been able to compartmentalize his crush, now that he knew the shape of Ethan’s body, the feel of him, the taste of him, had the feeling of him imprinted on his psyche, it was too difficult to keep all of that separate from the job.

Getting to Ilsa’s and having a task to focus on took the pressure off. Doing the impossible was Ethan’s specialty, and Benji loved helping Ethan pull off the impossible. So they got to work. 

Benji still didn’t know if he completely trusted the beautiful British double agent, but he admitted to himself his distrust might have had something to do with the jealousy that reared its head when she smiled at Ethan. Or rather, when Ethan smiled back.

There were a few hairy moments, but once in the fugue state of the mission they’d undertaken, Benji and Ethan worked together as they always did—watching each other’s backs, staying one step ahead of the baddies. When he realized how close Ethan had come to dying in that giant washing machine, and had only survived thanks to Ilsa, his heart missed a couple of beats.

“One of these days you’re going to take it too far.”

And Benji wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive it.

***

Ethan had tried to ensure that his gambit against Lane wouldn’t put anyone—especially Benji—in peril. He’d miscalculated. Again. He had underestimated Lane time and again, but as he walked to café he was certain this time he wasn’t going to miss. Benji’s life was on the line. Ethan had every intention of saving it.

He allowed himself the luxury of touching Benji’s shoulder briefly, reassuring himself that he was whole and healthy before entering into the final act of a play he and Lane had written together. He couldn’t look at Benji and see the man he loved. He had to look at him and see the end game, the light at the end of the tunnel.

As soon as Benji was free of Lane’s insidious grasp, Ethan could breathe a little again, and he used every ounce of that breath to fight to the finish. Ilsa played her part; Brandt and Luther played theirs. And finally, finally, they had Lane right where Ethan wanted him.

Ilsa said her farewell and Brandt and Luther took charge of the box and were headed to the rendezvous point to meet Hunley. Ethan and Benji were to follow on foot.

They silently cleaned the site of Lane’s capture as well as they could of any evidence, and set off into the city under the cover of darkness. Ethan heard Benji breathing and their tandem footsteps on the sidewalk. He wanted to ask how he was, to make sure Lane hadn’t put him through anything too horrible in the hours he was at that madman’s mercy. But he was too jittery to put anything into words.

They came upon a pocket park, dark and silent and cool in the pre-dawn hour. Ethan stopped walking. Benji went on a few paces before realizing, then he stopped, too.

Ethan halved the distance between them. “Wait,” he whispered. “Before things get crazy again, I just have to—“ and he leaned over, brushing his lips across Benji’s. He’d been confused and focused so much on Lane’s capture that he hadn’t had time to properly address the question of them. Once Benji had been taken, he’d been terrified that he’d never get a chance.

Benji stood still, letting Ethan deepen the kiss, until suddenly, Ethan felt himself being pushed away. Benji had shoved him in the shoulder.

“Hey!”

“I can’t do it, Ethan.” Benji’s voice was low and serious. Ethan immediately felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. This was it. What he’d been dreading. He’d fucked up the only good thing in his life and he didn’t even know how.

“Why?” he asked, his voice sounding hollow to his ears.

“You don’t want to know.” Benji sounded resigned and regretful.

Ethan swallowed. He’d never wanted to put Benji in an uncomfortable situation. He’d thought their physical compatibility meant they were both on board. He hadn’t meant to fall in love with his teammate. Only now, he realized he’d been in love with him all along and everything else was just an excuse to be near him. “Is it because you don’t feel the same way about me?”

“I don’t feel the same way, Ethan. I’m sorry.”

Ethan felt himself sway. So this is what it felt like when your heart broke: a stab of pain that took your breath away and made all the other physical hurts he’d endured seem like nothing at all. “Oh.” Ethan’s voice was small. “It’s okay.” He didn’t want Benji to feel badly about this. This wasn’t his fault. This was Ethan’s.

“I’m sorry. I know this…helps you. And I wish I could be there for you like that again. But it’s too hard, feeling the way I do. It’s too confusing.”

Ethan was the one who was confused. “What are you talking about?”

“The sex, it’s like a coping mechanism or whatever, and I get it, it’s better than drinking or getting high. I mean it feels better. Physically. As long as no one takes it all seriously. And I tried, I really did. I tried to leave my stupid feelings out of it—but, I guess it was inevitable.” Benji rubbed a hand over his face, scrubbing it in frustration. “Sorry.”

“Sorry—your feelings—you mean, you have feelings for me?” Ethan tried to tamp down the hope rising within him.

“Uh—isn’t that what we’re talking about here?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t done that much actual talking lately.”

“Well, whose fault is that, Agent Hunt?” Benji’s voice was rising, and Ethan shushed him with a finger across his lips.

“You’re the one who changed the subject every time I tried to get you to talk about something personal. Remember, Agent Dunn?”

“Yeah, and then you disappeared for six bloody months—wait, are you saying you wanted to talk about personal stuff?” Benji sounded suspicious and Ethan suddenly regretted every time he’d chickened out of talking through their feelings.

“Benji, I’ll admit that first time, in Seattle, I was in a bad place. It’s a long story, one I’d like to tell you someday, but that night I needed someone to be close to. I wanted you. I hoped you wanted me, too. That night was one of the best nights of my life. It was about coping—but it was me no longer wanting to have to live without knowing what kissing you felt like. _You_ , Benji.”

“So I wasn’t just convenient? You actually wanted—want—to be with _me_?” Benji sounded confused. 

“Very much,” Ethan confirmed.

“And the times we had sex after missions, that wasn’t about blowing off steam with the nearest available cock?”

Ethan laughed, relief starting to make him feel lightheaded. “Well, it was about blowing off steam--with the man it took me a while to realize I’m in love with.”

“You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah.” It felt good to say, to have it out there. Ethan wanted to pretend it didn’t matter if Benji said it back. But of course, it did.

“So you have sex with me, kiss me, leave me for six months, trick me into seeing you again, ask me to fuck you, nearly die on me once, and then… _then_ you tell me you love me?”

“I might have gotten things a little out of order. But you didn’t tell me how you felt, either. You just kept…being there, giving me what I wanted, what I needed. Please don’t tell me you were doing it out of some fucked up version of loyalty to your team leader.” Ethan felt ill at the thought that Benji had somehow felt coerced into their relationship. Ethan hadn’t always made the right moves—leaving Benji on his own for six months wasn’t exactly a love letter. But he’d thought he’d been doing the right thing. He’d been so careful to ask—to make sure Benji was okay with everything every step of the way.

“Jesus, no. Well, mostly no.”

“Mostly no?” Ethan said fiercely. “Tell me exactly. Please.”

Benji took a deep breath. His voice lost the agony it held when he’d been apologizing for having feelings for Ethan, and the anger it held after Ethan’s confession of love. He spoke calmly, which calmed Ethan down, too. “When you love someone, you want to be there for them every way that you can. When we’re working together, I don’t just blindly follow you—well, not always—but I do have your back. Because that’s my job and I’m good at it and you need me. When it was just us, and the work was over, I wanted to be there for you because I could tell you needed me there, too. And I wanted to be there with you because you’re—you. Kind and funny and strong. And super hot.” 

Ethan’s heart felt whole again for the first time in a very long time.

“I told myself that it didn’t matter if I loved you. I wanted to be with you, no matter your motives. No matter mine.”

“We had our wires crossed,” Ethan murmured, stepping right up against Benji’s front.

“Damn IT people, always crossing the wrong wires,” Benji said, putting his arms around Ethan.

Ethan kissed Benji soft and slow. “I love you, Benjamin Dunn.”

“I love you, Ethan Hunt.”

Ethan smiled against Benji’s mouth. He was having trouble controlling his grin. Benji loved him back. They’d hadn’t missed their chance after all. And once they wrapped up the loose ends of this mission, he intended to spend many hours showing Benji just how loved he was.

***

_Three days later, a Glasgow hotel room_

Benji woke suddenly in the dark room. The glowing red alarm clock showed the time as after 1AM. Ethan was still in the same position they’d fallen asleep in, the big spoon, his arm around Benji’s waist. He hugged him tightly, murmuring, “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” Benji whispered. “Go back to sleep.” He’d been dreaming. Not a nightmare. He’d been dreaming of his childhood home, of showing Ethan the rooms, introducing him to his parents. Making love to him in the treehouse in the backyard. It scared him more than a nightmare. Is this what his life could be now? Is this what he had to lose?

“I’m starting to wake up,” Ethan said roughly. Benji felt the proof pressing against his lower back.

“Have you ever had sex in a treehouse?” Benji asked. If Ethan was up, too, they might as well make good use of the time.

“I don’t think so,” Ethan said. “One time in a greenhouse. Not the same thing.” He didn’t seem fazed by the random question.

The two of them had been in each other’s pockets since handing Lane off to Hunley. They were still technically out of the purview of the CIA/IMF whatever and had told Hunley they were taking some official time off. He’d huffed and puffed and told them to call him the minute they were back in the states. 

They’d spent every hour together since, sharing stories from their training days, from their childhoods, talking about past relationships, favorite books, everything and anything that popped into their heads. They’d known each other for years, and they’d found out more about each other in the last few days than all of that time put together. Ethan told Benji about Julia, about his mixed feelings about the way things had ended. “It’s for the best, I know. But—“

“You still love her,” Benji had said, but without judgment.

“I do.”

“You always will. And that’s okay.”

“Thank you.” Ethan had smiled and Benji had never loved him more.

The only time their mouths stopped sharing information was when they were put to better use.

Now, Ethan rolled Benji toward him until his erection was slotted against Benji’s growing one. They kissed and sighed as they rubbed against each other, languid and slow. Benji found their frantic, messy couplings incredibly hot. But this, when they could take their time, fondle and kiss and press every inch of their bodies against one another, that was truly his favorite.

Somehow, Ethan had discovered that Benji went weak in the knees when his earlobe was sucked. Benji groaned as Ethan went to work on his left earlobe. “So,” Ethan murmured between his ministrations, “a treehouse, huh?”

“Oh you know, I’m pretty adventurous,” Benji said, then gasped as Ethan wrapped a hand around his cock and moved his mouth to suck a light mark over the juncture of his neck and his jaw.

“One of the things I love about you,” Ethan said.

“Would you—ah—like to go see one with me?” Benji concentrated on forming words as Ethan continued stroking.

“A treehouse?”

“It’s in my parent’s back yard,” Benji whispered.

Ethan stopped. He half sat up, looking Benji in the eyes. “I’d be honored, Benji.”

Benji smiled, lopsided. Why did being so happy make him so sad? “I love you, Ethan.”

Ethan kissed him. “Am I going to be what they expected?”

Benji was distracted by the kiss. “Who?”

“Your parents.”

“Oh. Well, they’ve always had unreasonably high expectations for me.” He looked Ethan up and down carefully. He was naked. Hard in all the right places. Soft in a few important ones. His hair was a mess, needed a trim. And his eyes were full of love. “So if I bring home an impossibly gorgeous man, with an impossibly huge heart, who seems to—impossibly—love me…yeah, that just about fits the bill.”

Ethan settled back down, draping himself over Benji’s chest so their hearts beat next to one another. Benji’s arms came around Ethan, holding him tight. He thought he couldn’t feel more for the man who was his partner, his lover, his crazy coworker, until he heard Ethan’s next words.

“Loving you is the least impossible thing I’ve ever done.”

Ethan tipped his head back and Benji kissed him. Yes, after a few unexpected twists and turns, everything was turning out okay in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! I had so much fun writing these two that I didn't want it to end...hope you enjoyed!


End file.
